


On a Silver Platter

by parrishthethought



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, Alternate Universe - College/University, Hazing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nudity, Pack Dynamics, Werewolf AU, Werewolf!Will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:39:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parrishthethought/pseuds/parrishthethought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College student and newly turned werewolf Will Graham must find a pack before the semester ends, or risk losing his humanity. But in order to be accepted by his peers, he'll have to pass their test: bring back the tooth of a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Silver Platter

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the wonderful #JustFuckMeUp challenge over on tumblr! Hannibal doesn't appear in this chapter (I'm always making you guys wait for him I'm so sorry) but there IS a naked man right off the bat, so, there's that.

It didn’t have any of the features that Will’s class had been taught to associate with werewolves. Where werewolves were stocky and muscular, the dog was thin; where they stood on two legs, it stood on four; where their ears were pointed and alert, the dog’s were floppy; where they had ferocious faces with long snouts, the dog’s muzzle was broad and extended no farther than a boxer’s. It panted away, quite content to watch Will do yard work from the other side of the fence. For these reasons, Will had no qualms at all about opening the gate for it.

“Come on, boy,” he called, “It’s a hot one today. You thirsty? C’mere.” 

The dog cocked its head as it was spoken to, then rose and came into the yard, tail wagging. Will held out his fingers for it to sniff and smiled when it licked them instead. He noticed that it wasn’t wearing a collar. _Don’t get too excited,_ he told himself, _People let their dogs roam around like this all the time._ That thought was followed by a more sobering one: _Dad will say no anyway._ After gently petting the dogs head, Will took his hand back. 

“I’ll get you some water,” he promised. He disappeared briefly inside the house and came back with a bowl, water sloshing over his hands as he stepped around piles of leafy debris and the tools he had left out. The dog, too, was right where he’d left it. It barked at the sight of the water and came running to him, almost knocking him over in its eagerness. Will laughed and bent to set the bowl down, saying, “Easy, easy. Here you go.”

Once the dog’s black mottled tongue touched the water, it didn’t stop drinking until the bowl was good and empty. If it did have an owner, Will was severely disappointed in them. Could it have gotten lost? It seemed too used to people to be a stray. And yet, the dog clearly needed taking care of. Will sent an anxious glance to the house behind him. No one was inside, and there were no neighbors outside to catch him sneaking, say, an animal through the kitchen. 

As easily as Will had let it into the yard, he opened the door and let it into his home.

\----

After a week, they’d developed a routine. If Will saw the dog roaming around outside, all he had to do was go in the yard and whistle, and it’d come running. He supposed it didn’t have an owner after all. He’d kept an eye out for any flyers posted around the neighborhood, but so far there’d been nothing. He hoped it stayed that way. As long as he remained oblivious to where it came from, Will didn’t have to lose it.

Their companionship was a blissful one up until the dog started getting restless. 

Will could see it in the way it paced through the house, the way it took longer and longer to come each time he called it. When it took to scratching at the door, Will brought the dog to his room and had it lay down on the bed. “Don’t,” he begged the one dependable thing in his life, burying his head in its fur. “Don’t leave. This is a good place, I can _make_ it a good place for you. I’ll get you everything you need tomorrow, take you for walks like a proper dog. Okay?”

The animal’s body tensed in his hold. Will went to pull back, but not fast enough. He had no time to let go of it before the dog, who had never showed any sign of aggression, turned its head and dug sharp teeth into his arm. Will yelped and tried to jerked away from it on instinct, but its jaws were strong and held him in place. Any struggle only made the piercing points of its canines sink deeper into his skin. Chest heaving, Will sat perfectly still until its grip loosened, then wrenched his arm out of its mouth and scrambled backwards on the bed. He didn’t want to believe it. He looked down.

His upper arm was a mess of torn fabric and blood. He peeled back the sleeve to expose several deep puncture wounds, from which more blood dripped in a thick, sluggish crawl. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything but the drop of his stomach, the slow burn of shock setting in. He touched around the edges of it experimentally, prodding at the skin, then stared at the creature who had done this to him.

Unlike Will, the dog didn’t seem to be in a hurry to put distance between them. It didn’t make to lunge at him again, it didn’t growl, it didn’t even put its ears back. It just sat there licking its chops, calmer than it had any right to be. Will would have preferred it snarling. At least then it wouldn’t look like the dog he had spent his afternoons with, lounging on this same bed while he did his homework. “Fine,” Will whispered. He rose on shaky legs and went to the kitchen, where he tugged the back door open with his good arm. If the dog wanted to leave, he’d give it a clear exit.

But the dog didn’t follow. “Well?” Will called out eventually. “You wanted to go, so go.”

He strained his ears but heard nothing. Unnerved, Will snatched the phone from the counter and crept down the hallway. He wouldn’t be able to take care of this bite on his own, he had no idea how to treat such a thing and he was pretty sure it needed stitches. The only option from here was to fess up. He’d have to tell his dad what he’d done. If the dog was still hanging around when he got home, though, it’d be deemed vicious and brought to the pound, and Will knew what happened to those dogs. He couldn’t let it happen to this one.

Will peeked inside his room to find the bed empty. Steeling himself, he took a few cautious steps inside.

“Boy?”

There was a warm laugh to his left. “I believe that title suits you more than it suits me.”

Will spun around, his heart in his throat, and came face to face with a man. A very _naked_ man. The stranger’s eyes were the same blue-gray as the dog’s, and they crinkled around the edges when he smiled. 

“Hello there.”

“I… how…” Will had lots of questions, but couldn’t figure out which one to ask first. It should have been impossible. He hadn’t missed any of the warning signs, he knew he hadn’t, he’d gotten top marks in that class. “You’re… But-”

“While you work on untwisting that tongue, allow me to make a suggestion.” The man reached out and took the phone from him. “Don’t call anyone. They’ll only bring you trouble.”

“What, like you did?” Will countered. Suddenly reminded of the gash in his arm, he covered it with his hand and scowled up at his former friend. “You _bit_ me.”

“Yes,” The man said proudly. When Will didn’t stop glaring, he continued, “Don’t worry, it’ll heal well enough on its own.”

“Did you really hate being here that much?” Will asked. “Did you really hate-” He cut himself off when he heard his voice crack and pressed the heel of his palm to his eye.

“Oh! My darling, no no no.” The man’s arms enveloped Will immediately, mindful of his injury, and pulled him into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His fingers played with Will’s dark curls, so similar to his own.

“Then why?” Will sniffled into a bare shoulder. His face grew hot as he recalled that the shoulder wasn’t all that was bare.

“Because you were kind,” came the answer.

Will paused, trying to understand. There was a softened penis pressed to his hip, though, and that made processing anything a bit difficult. “You made more sense when you couldn’t speak.”

The man released him, only to catch Will’s hand and bring it to his mouth for a kiss. “Will,” he sighed against the skin, his stubble scratching Will’s knuckles, “I have to leave very soon. I’m predisposed to romantic whims, you see, and when my heart decides what it wants I’ve simply got no choice but to follow it. Right now, it’s telling me to go to Italy. Don’t take this as a rejection, darling. Truly, you’ve changed my life. It was only fair I do the same for you.”

“Changed your life?” Will muttered. “I gave you a place to stay and you ate my food. Big deal.” It’d meant more than that to him, of course, but he wasn’t going to say so. “And since you’re not even going to stick around, I fail to see how you had any significant impact on…” The wrinkle in his brow disappeared, his face going blank. It was starting to sink in. _Oh,_ he thought numbly, _Oh no._

The man smiled broadly and started introducing himself as Anthony-something-or-other, but Will was only half-listening. He was never going to trust a textbook again.

“Ah, I’ve left you speechless,” Anthony teased. “Well, that’s alright. I know you’ll put my gift to good use.” He drifted out of Will’s room and across the hallway to Mr. Graham’s, where he began rooting through the dresser for some clothes to borrow.

Minutes later, a sneaker hit him squarely on the back of the head.

“Ow!” Anthony winced, rubbing at the sore spot. He turned to see his attacker. Will stood in the doorway, furious, another sneaker at the ready.

“Gift?!” The boy echoed shrilly. “Are you serious? How could you do this to me!” Anthony ducked when he launched the second one, narrowly avoiding getting pelted in the nose. There was more strength behind the throw than Anthony thought an injured teenager had any right possessing, but then, anger brought out incredible things in people. 

“I guess that’s the arm I should have bitten,” Anthony complained. He held up a plaid shirt, trying to judge if it’d fit him or not. Will came striding into the room and snatched his father’s clothes from the monster’s grasp.

“Don’t touch that,” he demanded, “It’s not yours.”

“Come now, darling. You wouldn’t really send me out like this, would you?” Anthony reached for the shirt, but Will dodged to the side and raised his head, a stubborn set to his jaw.

“Change back, then. No one’s stopping you. If this is real and you’re not just some naked asshole who snuck in here and stole my dog, change back.”

“Will.” Anthony gave him a warning look, unimpressed. Despite knowing what the man was and still bearing his mark, Will didn’t seem to care. And, fuck, was he swift on his feet. Seeing that he wasn’t going to catch the boy unless he changed back anyway, Anthony stopped trying. 

“So this is what I’m reduced to. A circus performer.” He folded his arms and considered the request. If he didn’t agree, this stand-off could very well last until the real Mr. Graham came home, and as thrilling as it may be to see Will try and explain, he really didn’t want to put the boy through any more trouble. “Alright. Give me room.” He waved his hand in a shooing motion.

Will took exactly one step back and waited.


End file.
